


Baby Blue

by trash_boi



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying Jesse Pinkman, Drug Use Mentioned, I haven't watched El Camino yet, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: s05e16 Felina, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Walter White, Self-Esteem Issues, Time Travel, Trauma, both racial and homophobic, cannon typical slurs, hurt comfort, jesse cries alot, jesse has no idea what's going on, mention of major character deaths for BrBa, slow burn?, softer walter white, spoilers for anything pre-felina, thank hank for the first, warning ya'll : irregular uploads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_boi/pseuds/trash_boi
Summary: "His first thought was that this was a dream or some kind of nightmare. There’s no logical way for him to look so young. He looked younger - at least two or three years younger - kinda like before everything with Mr. White went down."Jesse isn't quite sure what happened to him and Mr. White for them to wind up a little over two years in the past, but he sure as Hell isn't going to let his former chemistry teacher drag them down the same dark path they once walked. If they do...Jesse might just break.
Relationships: Jesse Pinkman & Walter White, Jesse Pinkman/Walter White
Comments: 24
Kudos: 89





	1. Jesse Pinkman

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ouroboros](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563764) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> The title is taken from Badfinger's "Baby Blue".
> 
> Also my amazing bf helped beta this story. Thanks babe for supporting me and my sin <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited July 3rd, 2020*

Chapter 1: Jesse

When Jesse Pinkman woke up he could tell, right off the bat, that something was wrong. First off, there was another body in the bed he was lying in, and he most definitely wasn’t at Badger’s pad on his lumpy old couch. With bated breath, he turned his head to the left and got an eyeful of bleach blonde hair and tits.

Jesse's breathing became more erratic as he realized he had no idea where he was.  He rolled onto his side and off the bed and tried to find the bathroom. His naked skin was lined with goosebumps and he felt as if he’d collapse at any moment. 

After three wrong doors, he finally found the bathroom. He threw the door open, not caring if the door banged against a wall and made a dent or a loud noise. 

He looked in the mirror and nearly missed the toilet as bile expelled from his body. He shook as he tried to control his vomit. He thought it was over three times, but each time he lifted his head and remembered the reflection of his face in the mirror, he gagged more, and whatever food or alcohol he had left in his stomach splashed into the water. By the end, he sat propped on his knees and dry heaved until his throat felt raw.

‘This can’t be happening, this isn’t real.’ Jesse sobbed into the toilet bowl. He ran a quivering hand through his hair and tugged at the strands. His hair shouldn’t have been that long. He shaved his hair and beard off after he ran to Badger’s—after he escaped that hell hole thanks to Mr. White. 

With his stomach empty, Jesse slowly picked his head up and looked in the mirror again. His first thought was that this was a dream or some kind of nightmare. There’s no logical way for him to look so young. He looked younger - at least two or three years younger - kind of like before everything with Mr.White went down. He could only guess that because of his lack of injuries. The only bruise on his body that he could see was a decent sized hickey on his neck that he assumed the lady back in bed gave him. He didn’t even have the dark circles around his eyes or the scars from Jack and his Neo-nazi squad. Jesse would almost claim that he looked good if it wasn’t for the sickly pallor of his skin and the redness that lined his eyes from unshed tears. 

If he had anything else in his stomach, Jesse would have vomited again from staring at himself for so long. He felt his legs begin to tremble so he lowered himself to the ground. He yanked a towel from the drying rack and pulled it around his shoulders. Jesse started to shut down, the world too much for him to handle.

‘Dissociating?’ he thinks, ‘Is that the word?’

He tucked his knees up to his chest and wrapped his thin arms around his legs. Everything felt wrong. He still didn’t know where he was or whose bed he had woken up in. He wanted to cry and, as sick as it was, he wished that Mr. White was there.

Mr. White was a genius. He might have had  _ some _ idea of what happened. But then again, maybe not. There wasn’t much good Mr. White could do for him anymore... Mr. White had died... protecting him.

“Jesse?” An obnoxious voice tore him out of his head, the sudden pounding on the door nearly made him scream as if attacked. “Jesse, get the hell out of my bathroom. I gotta pee. You’ve been in there for ages, asshole!”

Jesse scampered to his feet and held the towel in front of his dick. He didn’t know why but he’d suddenly felt exposed and overly self-conscious of his body. 

“Uh… Sorry, yo.” Jesse muttered as he opened the bathroom door. The blonde lady from earlier was still nude and had a poor manicured hand propped on her hip.

“Just get your stuff and get out of here, man.”

Jesse nodded and walked back into the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed and was about to pull on his bright red boxer briefs when he heard a commotion through the wall, coming from next door. 

He thought he heard someone shout “Police!” and lots of glass break. A cold sweat broke out on his skin and he felt trapped in his own body. 

‘This was the day Emilio gets—got— _ fucking tenses _ —Emilio’s getting fucking arrested right now…  _ HOLY SHIT _ EMILIO IS GETTING ARRESTED RIGHT NOW.’ 

Jesse pulled on his underwear and wrestled to try and get his jeans up past his knees. The blonde came back in (he can’t remember her name for the life of him) and picked up his socks and shoes and threw them into his arms. He checked his pants for his phone, wallet, and keys—check, check, and check—and opened the bedroom window.

He had a faint memory of falling off a roof and sure as hell wanted to avoid that. He tossed his shoes onto the ground and used what little upper body strength he had to help lower himself closer to the ground before he dropped. His bare feet stung as asphalt struck them and the New Mexican heat made the blacktop feel like hot coals.

His shirt hit him in the back of his head and he quickly pulled it on. Jesse poked his head around the side of the building to check if there were any cops out front. There weren’t any. Just as he was about to make a break for his car, his heart stopped. 

His eyes landed on a younger Mr. White; he had a full head of hair and just a mustache. Jesse thought he might’ve broken down sobbing from the sight of Mr. White alone, but the imminent threat of arrest that hung over his head made him shove down the part of him that just wanted to run up to Mr. White, collapse into his arms and sob. 

Instead, Jesse moved.

He just hoped that he didn’t make up the tearful recognition on Mr. White’s face as he ran past the older man and made his getaway. Jesse couldn’t hold back his tears as he drove himself home. The sight of Mr. White alive caused so many emotions to erupt inside his chest.


	2. Walter White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get Walt's pov of waking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot thank everyone enough who decided to read my fic and leave such nice comments. This fic has gotten a lot more reception than I was honestly expecting but that just makes me super hyped!
> 
> Also!! I've made a Tumblr specifically so you guys can contact me if you want. It's @ tr4shbo1
> 
> (And as always, my boyf has helped me edit)
> 
> *Edited July 3rd, 2020*

Baby Blue Chapter 2: Walter

Walter White never thought that he would have ever opened his eyes after he collapsed in Jack’s meth lab. He had won. Everything was taken care of—his children would have been supported financially by the “grant money” that Elliot and Gretchen would have given Junior, he was able to say one last goodbye to Skyler and Holly, and most of all, he had been able to save Jesse from that hell hole he had been trapped in for months. 

Despite his better judgment, Walt thought that Jack and his crew would follow his orders. They had given no real reason to doubt them before, but for them to have blatantly ignored his demands about killing Jesse... Walt was torn between being upset and relieved. He was upset because his former student had to suffer even more due to his actions, but also sickly relieved that Jesse was alive. There was one less death on his hands, and as he had told Jesse on multiple occasions, he did actually care for the boy.

So when Walt was woken up by Skyler scolding him, he didn’t know what to think. 

“Walt, honey, are you seriously gonna lay in bed until Hank gets here? You do know he won’t be able to just wait for you, right? He’s doing you a favor, letting you join him at work.”

He took a moment to respond. Walt stared at Skyler. Her hair hung past her shoulders and she no longer had bags under her eyes. She looked younger, content with life, just like she was before he told her his cancer diagnosis.

“Walt?”

He shook his head and ran a hand over his face. His brain stuttered at the lack of facial hair. He palmed his face again and only felt a mustache… He never had one after he and Jesse started cooking…

“Sorry, Skyler. I guess I had a bad dream or something… I don’t totally feel like myself.”

Skyler’s brows furrowed. “Do you think you’re getting sick? I can call Hank for you if you want—”

“No, no, I’m sure I’ll feel better once I take a shower.”

“If you’re positive...” 

Skyler didn’t look convinced, but Walt brushed her concerns aside. Skyler gave him one last look over before leaving their bedroom. He absentmindedly watched her close the door. He was more focused on the uneasy feeling in his gut. He thought he was going to die in those final moments, but there he was in his old house with Skyler still concerned about his well-being. He pushed himself up into a sitting position in bed and was overwhelmed by a coughing fit. 

‘Fuck… I feel like I’m about to lose a lung.’

After the fit had ended, Walt got to his feet and walked into the bathroom. When he saw himself in the mirror, he thought that he might vomit. Like Skyler, he looked younger, much like he did before chemo made his face gaunt from rapid weight loss. He had a full head of hair with only a slight touch of grey and his old silver wire-frames. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him. That was the only logical option for what was happening—that, or he was dead and this was some cruel purgatory. 

Walt pulled his sleep shirt over his head and looked down at his side. There was no scar from his surgery. He leaned over the counter to look at his face. He was young, well younger than when he died(?). If what Skyler said was true and he was going with Hank to work, he would have just turned fifty. He would have just found out about his cancer. His life wasn’t in total shambles quite yet. He had a chance—if this was reality—to fix things. 

He could find Gus again and make a deal like they had last time. He could cook just enough to leave money behind for his family. He was going to die. Walt knew that, and if he had his way, he’d die sooner than later. 

There must have been some sick karmic irony at play for him to have lung cancer and end up a cancer to everyone around him. Despite his noble beginnings, he was no better than Jack and his gang or even Tucco. He became numb to the violence and only cared about coming out on top.

But he knew better now. He’d be able to work things out without so many deaths. He was smarter than he was a couple years ago. It would all work out in the end… It had to.

Walt changed into a light sweater over one of his tartan button-ups with a simple pair of slacks and tennis shoes. He wanted to look decent but also remain comfortable. He remembered that the bulletproof vest they had him wear was kind of uncomfortable, so maybe dressing more comfortably would help counteract that. 

Skyler set a plate full of eggs, toast, and two slices of veggie bacon in front of him. 

“Thanks, honey.” 

Honey. It felt weird to call Skyler that. She hadn’t been his romantic partner in years. After she found out about the cooking, she was more akin to a business partner than his wife. She helped launder money with the car wash, but they never were able to spend a lazy day at home watching Holly or even share a quick peck on the lips. 

Walt wasn’t quite sure if he truly missed being intimate with Skyler, or if he wanted a fantasy that had long been unattainable. 

He ate breakfast alone and tried to keep his coughing to a minimum. It wasn’t to the frequency and intensity it once was, but he knew that it wouldn’t be too long before he would end up coughing up blood. He set his dishes in the sink when three loud knocks came from the door. Walt walked over to the door and pulled it open. Hank, in uniform with his own bulletproof vest, stood on the other side of the doorway.

“Hey there, Walt!” Hank walked inside and patted Walt on the shoulder. “You ready to watch us bust some low-life junkie cooks?”

Walt silently nodded and tried to swallow around the lump that formed in his throat. He hadn’t been prepared to see Hank. He almost forgot that the last time he saw his brother-in-law was when Hank was dragged into a ditch. He remembered quickly as flashes of the shootout ran through his mind. He remembered screaming, pleading for Jack and his men to stop; to spare Hank; to stop shooting. All he could do was watch from the sideline while Hank was gunned down and treated worse than roadkill. 

“You alright there, buddy?” Hank pushed his sunglasses on his forehead. “You’re lookin’ a little green there. If you’re worried about possibly getting hurt or anything, you don’t gotta worry. We’ll be in the back, just watching from a safe distance.”

Walt nodded in thanks. “That’s good to know,” he choked out, “I’m just, you know, excited to see the bust.”

“Well, if you’re ready to go, we should hit the road.”

“Let me tell Skyler we’re heading out, ok?”

“You’re fine. I know you gotta keep your lady in-the-know to be happy.”

“Yup.” 

Walt looked in baby Holly’s room and found Skyler standing with her arms crossed over her chest. He stepped in behind her and placed a hand on her arm. 

“Sky?”

“We still need to paint.” She stared at the bare walls with a frown. “When do you think you’ll get it done?”

Walt remembered this; remembered how he kept putting off his family to cook. 

“I’ll try and work on it this week. And Hank is here, so we’re gonna head out.” He didn’t go in to kiss her goodbye and she didn’t either.

He grabbed his keys in the living room and locked the door behind him. He followed Hank to his van where Frank Gomez sat in the passenger seat.

“Took you two long enough.” Gomez rolled his eyes at Hank and Walt. “I thought for a second that you were braiding each other’s hair and didn’t invite me.”

“Can it, Gomey.” Hank snacked Gomez on the arm as he shifted the van into reverse. “He had to appease his lady.”

“Oh, I see. Gotta tame the dragon, huh?” Gomez turned to look back at Walt with a grin. “I gotta do that every now and again. What did you do to piss her off?”

Walt took a deep breath and forced a crooked smile on his face. “She wants me to paint the nursery but she says I’m taking too long to do it. She keeps threatening to paint the whole room herself. I personally am not a fan of the thought of my pregnant wife climbing a rickety step ladder to paint.”

“Can’t blame you there.” Hank shook his head, “I’m just grateful Marie has never expressed interest in having kids. Like, I love Junior to death, but I don’t think I’d be able to handle being an actual father. Now the cool uncle... _ that _ I can pull off well.”

“I think you’d be a great dad, Hank, but you’re right. Being a parent isn’t for everyone. I sometimes wonder if I’m a good dad...”

“Hey now, you’re a great dad, Walt. You’ve raised a good kid and you got another tyke on the way. Don’t have doubts now.” 

He tried to appreciate the sentiment, but he couldn’t forget his past actions. He could barely handle the fact that he was in the same van as two men he inadvertently killed. Their blood was on his hands, yet there they were talking about families and making jokes with one another. 

“Thanks, Hank.”

“Don’t mention it, buddy. And hold onto your britches, we’re a road away from the cook location.”

Once they stopped the van a couple houses down the road, Walt felt as if he was having the oddest sense of deja-vu. He couldn’t remember what Hank and Gomez had originally spoken about but he remembered their little bet on if Cap’n Cook was a “white boy” or a “Beaner” as Hank had so eloquently phrased it. He felt like he was in a haze while the officers caught Emilio. He asked absentmindedly to see the inside of the meth lab like he did in a previous life, but this time it was so he’d have some time alone to try and process the world around him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get much of a chance when a too familiar person crawled out of a second-story window, only this time he was actually wearing pants and he didn’t fall to the ground. 

He and Jesse Pinkman made eye contact and Walter felt as if he could burst into tears at any moment. Jesse looked so young and unharmed. He wished that Jesse had no recollection of their shared past, but when he looked at Jesse’s tear rimmed eyes, Walter knew it was too late. 

Jesse remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say thank you so much for everyone who commented on the first chapter! You have no idea how much it helped motivate me to write more. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that characters aren't ooc.
> 
> I'd appreciate any comments you guys have (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

**Author's Note:**

> I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know if you're interested in reading more. I want to write more but I'd like to know that there are people still pursuing the BrBa fanfiction. (I don't want to just be writing for ghosts)
> 
> *Also if you'd like to contact me at all not through comments feel free to send me a message on tumblr @tr4sbo1*


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